


Unspoken

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail





	Unspoken

He looks at her sometimes, and wonders. Will she ever know? Know the way he thinks, the way he feels when she's around. It's not as though he isn't good at hiding it -- he is -- nor is it that he _wants_ her to know -- he does, but that's beside the point -- it's just a thought. Swirling in the back of his mind, reminding him every day that while she looks at him, and looks _through_ him every time those brown eyes land on his face with their characteristic frown, she still sees so little.

Or maybe... she already knows. That was always a possibility, but honestly Shinji doesn't think it very likely. Not because Hiyori is in any way thick -- at least, he isn't going to say it where she can hear him -- but just because it isn't really in her nature _to_ think so deeply about things like that. Hiyori... is different. All brashness and all loudness and just... _Hiyori_.

And he isn't lying, it really isn't because she's dumb or thick. Her grades in academy may not have been anything to brag about, but what Hiyori lacks in rudimentary knowledge she makes up for in street smarts. He knows her better than anyone else, so it isn't as though that piece of information has passed him by. They'd grown up together, shared a bedroll -- though she usually stole all the covers -- on cold nights as children, she'd kicked him in the head enough times for trying to be noble and offering her the only crust of bread they'd been able to find. In a lot of ways... he knew _her_ better than he knew himself.

Which was why he really wonders what she thinks. If she notices the way his eyes always find her slight form whenever they're both just sitting around, or if she ever pays attention to the way that he always makes sure he almost never draws her name for training. Not because he's a chicken or anything like that, but because the idea of fighting her... frightens him. And yet again, it's not because of anything to do with her. It's because even though he's spent years and years subjugating, pushing the hollow down into the depths of his soul, around her he's not willing to take that risk.

So he hides it, hides it behind his smug grin and nonchalant attitude, hides it so that she won't see because he knows she'd simply laugh and insult him -- and likely hit him with her sandal again -- and then call him a dumbass and pretend like it's nothing. Because she doesn't know. Or maybe it's just that she doesn't _want_ to know, doesn't want to see what's there to be seen.

But it's there, just the same, and it's there regardless of whether she wants to see it or not. And he wonders if, one day, there'll come a time when she _will_ want to see it. A day when he'll finally know for certain that she knows.


End file.
